Page 81 of Dirty Legacy

“I don’t exactly have the best model for it in the world.”

“Who cares? You saved my life when you didn’t have to. You put your neck out for that scummy idiot fuck-face Brad. Imagine what you’ll do for your own kid?”

I blink rapidly, swallowing against the lump in my throat. What the hell is happening right now? Why am I getting all emotional?

Maybe because this is the first time I’ve thought about myself like that. Until now, all I’ve done is worry I’ll end up being a shitty parent like my mom was and ruin this baby. It’s not like I’ll be raising them in the safest environment possible.

But Rowan’s right. I’ll do anything for this child. I’ll kick, fight, scream, break, love, cuddle, fix, hold, and whatever for my kid, no matter what, and that’s got to be enough. Or at least close to it.

“Ah, crap, look what I did.” She leaps up and comes around the table to hug me. “I didn’t mean to make you cry! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, honestly, it’s super okay. I’m just an emotional pregnant lady. Be happy I’m not ralphing all over the place.”

We laugh together and Rowan wipes my tears. She spends a few more minutes with me, but heads back up to check in with her mom and her dad. I’m alone for only long enough to finish my coffee when Connor strides into the room, a fat book under one arm, and comes to a stomping halt beside my chair.

I look up at his stormy eyes. There’s no smile on his stoic face. I caught a glimpse of a happy Connor last night in the car, but he’s gone now.

I wish he’d come back.

“Did you get my present?” he asks.

“Yes, and thank you. I won’t make you regret this.”

His jaw tightens. “Most people don’t get rewarded after making a stupid decision like you did.”

“Most people aren’t your wife.”

“Very true.” He drops the book into the chair where Rowan had been sitting. “I have a job for you.”

“Sorry? A job?”

“You still work for me.”

I snort and lean back, unfolding my legs and stretching. “Technically? I guess so?”

“Then as an employee of WashCo, you are obligated to follow my orders.”

“That… doesn’t sound right.”

He points at the book. “Those are WashCo’s ledgers. The real ledgers.”

“I didn’t know there were fake ones.”

“There are. You’ve been working on them. But that’s the real stuff, and I want you to go through it, looking for any specific entries around a company called United Building Incorporated.”

“UBI? Really?”

“That’s the name.”

“And what am I trying to find?”

“I don’t know.” He taps a knuckle against his chin. It’s a nervous gesture, one I’ve seen before. “But tell me what you come across.”

“I do so love a wild-goose chase, husband of mine.”

“Hmmmm. Wonderful. Have fun.” He turns away.

“Wait a second.” I get to my feet, walk to him, and stand on my toes so I can kiss him. He softens at that. “Thank you for the phone. Nadia’s already asking for Marcus’s number.”